shatterverse | (no subject)

A black Ford F-350 pickup truck moves along a narrow unpaved road towards the Cooper Farm. The exterior is a mess of cracked glass, dents, bullet holes, scratched paintwork and mud spatter, but it seems to be running smoothly. In the back, a more pristine-looking motorbike is held in place by bungee cords and a large pile of duffel bags, gas cans and other outdoor survival gear. There's also a tool box behind the cab, containing a sizable arsenal of guns, explosives and ammunition, and one very hi-tech bow. It's clear that this vehicle has been on the road for quite some time.

Jamie's at the wheel, keeping a sedate speed and tapping along lazily to a Steve Miller Band song. Eleanor is dozing in the passenger seat, feet up on the dashboard.

Since their arrival and subsequent alien encounter in Nebraska eight months ago, the two of them have conducted a fairly thorough tour of the United States: northerly parts in the fall and warmer climes during the winter. In that time, Jamie has learnt how to drive automatics and stick shifts, and Eleanor has figured out what his 'episodes' are, and how best to control them. They've roughed it at times, at others they've taken advantage of civilian abandonment, and there've been plenty of monsters, fights and adventures along the way. It was only a few days ago that Jamie accidentally tuned in to Barbara's automated radio transmission and discovered the existence of the Kansas safe-zone. They decided to check it out.

The truck hits a deep pothole as it enters the main yard of the farm. Eleanor's head thumps against the side window, jarring her awake.

"...Ow," she mumbles, eyes still closed. "Nice road. Are we there yet?"

[OOC: Two pups, two muns. Tag either or both.]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

"An Earth," she says. "There's no standard nomenclature for which one, which has started to seem a bit annoying."

She cocks her head at him, and narrows her eyes slightly, nostrils flaring.

"You?"

An Earth.

Jamie absorbs this with an intent look, like he's picking apart the possibilities in his head.

"Tortall," he answers eventually. "And Earth, though I haven't been since I was a baby."

His accent is a curious blend of Tortall and Tadfield. It comes of spending most of his time with his father.

An Earth. . . nah. That would just be too convenient. But then, War has never discounted the laws of narrative causality, so it is possible. Could the Young boy have had. . . an older brother? An Uncle? The kid isn't old enough to be his father. It will occur to her later that time needn't have passed as she'd expect it to.

"Tortall?" She asks. "I haven't heard of that one."

"No, probably not. We have horses like this, not that," says Jamie, as he nods his head towards the motorbike. "Kings and knights, swords and arrows. Not an engine in sight."

He steps away from her stallion, looks her in the eye and promptly winces like he has a horrible headache.

"It's a sort of medieval world," Eleanor chips in, before her presence is totally forgotten. "They have magic too."

"I'm from an alternate Earth, but I know of it."

She seems a little distracted, and she has been ever since Red steadied her horse. As such, she misses Jamie's facial reaction.

"Are you a god?" she asks in the same Ancient Greek, somewhat out of the blue. Her accent is poor and the enunciation is a little off, but she's got the basics.